Monday, September 24, 2012

The Giver is Given Up: Jesus' Death in Matthew (Background for a sermon series)

What follows is part of a paper I wrote in seminary; I am posting here for the sake of those who are hearing my sermon series this fall and who might want to dig deeper into some of the themes raised. This post will trail off abruptly at the end, but I intend to return to it and post the rest another time.

Popular renditions of the gospel circulating in the West today tend either to depict
Jesus as part of a Christian conspiracy against a noble humanity (e.g. The
DaVinci Code, The LastTemptation of Christ) or as the one who suffers physical
torments so that we do not have to (e.g. The Passion of the Christ). Matthew
would be startled by such depictions: He presents the death of Christ as a
human conspiracy against Jesus and his suffering as a result of his willing submission to this rejection.

As such,
Matthew’s depiction of Jesus’ suffering is closer to that of Algot, the
hunchbacked church assistant, in Ingmar Bergman’s 1962 film Winter Light. At
one point Algot shuffles over to Tomas, a priest in the throes of futility and
isolation, and whispers:

The passion of Christ, his suffering . . . wouldn't you
say the focus on his suffering is all wrong? . . . This emphasis on physical
pain. It couldn't have been all that bad. It may sound presumptuous of me - but
in my humble way, I've suffered as much physical pain as Jesus. . . . I feel
that he was tormented far worse on an other level. . . . Christ had known his
disciples for three years. They'd lived together day in and day out - but they never grasped what he meant. They abandoned him, to the
last man. And he was left alone. That must have been painful. Realizing that no one
understands. To be abandoned when you need someone to rely on - that must be
excruciatingly painful. But the worse was yet to come. When Jesus was nailed to the cross - and
hung there in torment - he cried out - “God, my God! Why hast thou forsaken me?” He
cried out as loud as he could. He thought that his heavenly father had abandoned him. .
. . Surely that must have been his greatest hardship? God’s silence.

With this the priest turns a corner, realizing that Jesus
has endured the abandonment that he feels and has brought God’s presence there.
It has all the import of Matthew’s “God with us” (1:23).

While he shares many
of the same concerns of the other gospel-writers, Matthew is particularly keen on depicting Jesus as the (largely
unwelcome) fulfilment of Jewish Messianic prophecy. Though Jesus has been sent by God to reign over
Israel and to extend that reign over the whole earth, he is rejected, betrayed, and forsaken
along the way. In his incarnation the Son of God is handed over to the worst that humanity can
offer, only to be raised once the extent of his self-giving love and submission to the Father have
taken him through suffering and death. This is the way God is with humanity.

God With Us, Given Up for Dead

Matthew and his readers are not oblivious to the hurt and
enmity of the human race and the promise of a Messiah. Into Jesus’ genealogy Matthew
alone adds extra details regarding those persons and incidents (such as Judah’s brothers, Tamar,
Ruth, Uriah’s wife, and the Babylonian exile) which bring suffering, sin, and betrayal
immediately to the minds of knowledgeable readers (Matt 1:2-17, cf. Luke 3:23-28). To this he also
adds unique insight into Joseph’s fears regarding societal shame, Herod’s conniving deception of
the magi and ensuing slaughter of innocent children, and the narrow exile of Joseph, Mary
and Jesus to Egypt (1:18-2:12, cf. Luke 2:1-20). This is the devastating and
difficult world into which Jesus comes—and yet he is “God with us”; the fulfillment of Isaiah 7:14 (1:23).

As the
beatitudes are spoken and the drama escalates it becomes most clear from Matthew’s
presentation of Jesus’ life that before there is to be comfort, inheritance of the earth, and the kingdom of
heaven there is to be considerable mourning, meekness, and
persecution (5:3-12, cf. Luke 6:20-23). Suffering and death amount to a stunning fulfillment of Messianic prophecy, but by the
end of Matthew it comes as no surprise. All throughout the first 25 chapters the allusions to
fulfilled prophecy and forebodings of Jesus’ suffering and death dovetail and mount into a
clear collision at the cross.

By the time readers come to Matthew 27:40, where the taunters tell
Jesus to come down from cross if he is “the Son of God,” whatever the notions
of Jesus’ mockers, deniers, and betrayers at the time, Matthew’s readers have realized that staying on the cross
is exactly what the Son of God does. Matthew does not need a lengthy exposition of Isaiah 53
to spell this out. While he is the most disposed of the evangelists to cite events in Jesus’ life
as the fulfilment of prophecy, oddly enough he falls nearly silent in this regard when it comes to the event of Jesus’ death.

After the resurrection it would be the juxtaposition of ancient
prophecy with the passion of Jesus that would force people to come to grips with the true nature
of their Messiah. Before the resurrection people were subjecting Jesus’ passion predictions and
life-posture to their own Messianic expectations rather than recognizing the theological
definition clarifying right before their eyes. Continuity with Israel’s history and prophecy existed,
but it is Jesus who was drawing the connections and revealing their startling
conclusions.

Readers of Matthew
are enabled to gather from the actions and enigmatic predictions of Jesus
himself that the Messiah is a more meek and persecuted character than may ever have been imagined. Of
the gospel-writers Matthew is most intent on accentuating this profound irony, as seen in
his presentation of the desertion of Jesus by his followers, the conspiracy against him, and the
God-forsakenness he experiences as he is handed over to death.

With Us Without Us: A Messiah Abandoned

From start to finish Matthew seems determined to
highlight the extent to which God is with us, even when we are not with him. He gives intimate
insight into the agony that Jesus endured for others and the abandonment that he was given
in return. In comparison with the other synoptic gospels, the subtleties of word-selection
provide the first indications of this emphasis. From the unparalleled introduction of Jesus as
Emmanuel/God-with-us in 1:23 what one notices about Matthew is the prevalence of “with” language which
accentuates Jesus’ solidarity with people and their increasing lack thereof in
return.

In typical
Matthean irony, only five verses later readers see that all of Jerusalem is “with Herod”
in being “troubled” at the news of Jesus’ arrival (2:3). Later, in the agony of Gethsemane where
Luke has the disciples only a “stone’s throw” away from Jesus, Mark and Matthew have him
intensely alone. Here Matthew provides “with” language three more times than does Mark, is more
clear about Jesus’ desire for support, and offers the least excuses for the
disciples falling asleep (26:36-46, cf. Mark 14:32-42; Luke 22:39-46). In both gospels Jesus asks the disciples to
“watch” with him, but the irony is thick when Matthew alone seizes the opportunity a chapter later to mention that
it is soldiers now “keeping watch” over Jesus at the cross (27:36, 54).

The
prevalence of “with” language in Matthew is not easily chalked up to a preference for the
word. When he and Luke tell about the disciple’s thrones in the new kingdom, Matthew does not join
Luke in having Jesus credit them for continuing “with me in my trials” (Luke 22:28). For
Matthew it remains clear that, though they are indeed his followers, the reason they will sit
on thrones in the kingdom is ultimately not because of their persistence with Jesus, but because of
the mercy of the Son of man (19:28). These are just some of the examples of how Matthew’s
word-selection subtly and repeatedly escalates the profoundly ironic drama of the people’s
rejection of Jesus and his relentless faithfulness to them in return.

A Cacophony of Conspirators

Turning our attention from Jesus’ friends to his enemies
we hear Matthew’s indications of Jesus’ unrequited faithfulness grow into loud rumbles
of conspiracy. This gospel highlights the conspiracies against Jesus more intently than any
other—continuing to do so even after Jesus’ death (27:62-64). Besides the mention of more notorious
players such as Judas, Pilate, and the Roman guards, Matthew names Jesus’
conspirators 62 times to Luke’s 40 and Mark’s 38. This tally may seem an insignificant anomaly until one
considers how much each reference serves to heighten the twenty-eight chapter drama of Jesus’
rejection and execution. Within these 62 references there are a plethora of sub-groups named from
within the Jewish leadership—their interchangeability indicating that ultimately the people
they lead are being implicated as well.

By the end, Pilate and his soldiers are also deeply
embroiled in the controversy. In pointing this out, Matthew is more intent than Mark on
tying Pilate to his office, hinting that he (like the rich young man in 19:16-24) is so caught up he
is in the human systems of power that he has difficulty untangling himself. This even though
Pilate has immediate access to the truth, and knows it all too well. In 27:19 Matthew gives unique
insight into Pilate’s wife’s dream, and depicts him on the “judgment seat”, indicating his own
responsibility for the decision to be made. Ultimately, readers are aware that Pilate is not really
deciding Jesus’ fate (for it is God who has allowed this to happen), but his own.

In each of the
synoptic gospels the governor asks Jesus if he is the King of the Jews and Jesus allows him the ironic privilege of having testified
to the truth himself, replying simply: “You have said so” (συ λεγεισ, 27:11, cf. Mark 15:2; Luke
23:3). Matthew uniquely notes the theological ramifications of this reply and is careful to
mention two additional times when Jesus answers in such a way and thus allows the testimony of
his identity to resound from the tongues of the conspirators themselves. In each case a
delicate balance is shown between Jesus’ control over the situation and the conspirator’s own
knowledgeable participation.

Jesus’ foes are indicted not for their ignorance, but for their opposition. That
they find it impossible to believe will not be changed by Jesus answering with rhetorical force or
logical explanation. Such an answer would not only be out of character for this non-violent,
freedom-granting respecter of persons but would actually entail caving to the devil’s temptations
to win people by coercion. The Messiah has come in lowly form and will only win the world by
going to his death at their hands. They will either believe in this Messiah of meekness and
self-sacrifice or they will not. They may assume Jesus is evading their questions, but by his very
meekness he is offering his answer.